


Open Arms

by CaptainTarthister



Series: Open Door [2]
Category: Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Cheating, Cunnilingus, F/M, Lactation Kink, Light Bondage, Pregnant Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22891975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: “We’ve asked the doctor repeatedly, Nikolaj. There’s no way your penis can harm or poke the baby. Dimples don’t happen because of your penis."
Relationships: Gwendoline Christie/Nikolaj Coster-Waldau
Series: Open Door [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637320
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41
Collections: Game Of Thrones Romance, Game of Thrones





	Open Arms

**Author's Note:**

> For all the gwendolaj lovers :-) 
> 
> *****  
> It's tiring and ruins the joy of reading RPF putting warnings. Use your eyes to know the tags.

Wrists straining against the scarves, Gwendoline moaned from the sure tugs of Nikolaj’s mouth on her nipples. An unusually bright sunlight filtered through the window but her eyes opening and closing from the deliciousness sent her spinning into blackness and smoky light then back. She also saw the flutter of what seemed to be numerous galaxies every time he lashed her nipples with tongue.

She almost wept with relief when he leaned away on his knees, giving her tortured, swollen nipples respite. Hung in the hot, sweet daze that preceded orgasm, her body was soft, pliable. Her throat was quite raw from the cries she’d sent to the ceiling when he nursed from her clit earlier. Weak whimpers escaped her throat as he spread her legs wide before flattening her long, pale thighs on the bed. His hands firm on her hipbones, he began to push in.

_“Fucking Christ, Ms. Christie.”_

“ _Ooooh.”_

They groaned from the loud slushy sound of her cunt welcoming him. He wasn’t too big but he fucking knew how to use his cock. She cooed when he grabbed her too roughly by the hair, his mouth hard and rough on her lips. His cock bobbed against her sticky cunt, tip brushing the slit, shaft brushing her thigh. Again she struggled against the scarves, fingers curling into fists as she thought about taking him inside. But he was kissing her so good. His mouth was a _snack._

She pushed her hips against him, rubbing her cunt desperately against his cock. He chuckled against her neck and pulled back a little. Blue eyes bright, pink tongue licking lips, she purred as his cock slowly, very slowly slid back inside her. She arched, the thread of sweat sliding from between her breasts to her navel spilling to the side.

Nikolaj leaned forward, licking her nipple before straightening up on his knees. Keeping her hips angled high, his hands gripping her thighs, he fucked her, hair falling over his face, eyes boring hard into her that harder and faster he thrust. She gasped, trembled, overwhelmed from the intensity of his naked cock sliding in and out of her. He felt bigger with every punch back inside.

Then he suddenly fell towards her, pushing her legs high then higher until they draped his shoulders. She groaned from the angle change, eyes widening from the sensation before she panted his name in approval. He growled her name too, pumping furiously in her cunt as if to crush it. And then—

_“Gwen.”_

He grabbed her around the back, flattening her sore breasts against his hairy chest as he shuddered through his release. She bit him on the shoulder as she came too, whimpering through the ripples of her cunt milking his cock for more juices. Her nails dug in the soft flesh of her hands.

Nikolaj cupped her face, kissing her deeply, thoroughly on the mouth. She chuckled wearily, biting him playfully. Then, ever so slowly, he pulled away. A long thread of drool hung between their swollen lips before he carefully pulled out of her cunt. He lowered her legs, smiling at her tenderly then loosened the scarves.

“Not too tight? Are you alright?” He asked, kissing and rubbing them gently with his thumbs. He fell back in bed beside her, pulling her to his chest. She rested half on top of him, pillowing her chin with her hands.

“More than alright,” she whispered. She liked how he looked post-fuck, post-orgasm: relaxed, youthful, yet still with that streak of naughtiness and mischief. She loved these quiet moments following their fucks. Their bodies moving so slowly as if time didn’t exist, the insides of their thighs wet and slick. He rubbed her back with one hand and caressed the shapely thigh wrapped around his waist with the other.

“What time’s the appointment again?”

“We have the eleven-fifteen slot.” Gwendoline reluctantly pulled away from him to get her phone from the nightstand, checking the time. Nikolaj moved along with her, pinning her on the mattress to nibble on her damp shoulder. She giggled, stretching fully as his lips traveled down, toward her ass. Then he kissed up her spine, toward her shoulder, her nape before laying down beside her. His fingers scrawled random lines on her back.

She turned to face him, loving how he couldn’t stop touching her. First a fingertip on her lips, drifting to trace the line of her chin, her neck, her shoulder. Then he cupped her around the ass, pulling her closer until she had to wrap her leg around his hip. His semi-hard cock poked at her cunt.

“You’ve done this twice. Tell me what to expect,” she said as his fingers spread across her stomach.

“No matter how many times it’s happened, it’s always amazing to see your baby up that screen.” He said, glancing at her stomach then her face. “The baby is finally real.”

“Can you tell the sex?”

“Not for another eighteen weeks. Could be earlier depending on how the baby’s positioned.”

Gwendoline turned on her back. Nikolaj moved with her, continuing to caress the small, firm bump. She could still wear tight dresses and some of her pants still fit. But the giveaway to her condition were her breasts. Besides being newly round, they now jiggled, even in a bra.

As Nikolaj’s fingers fluttered around her stomach and his lips brushed her cheek and neck, she recalled Giles’ reaction.

They’d had an open relationship almost from the very beginning. It was just the way of things, and in the circles they moved in, nothing was set. Everything was always in motion, malleable, bent. She could have done without another boyfriend—or partner, as Giles insisted, the latter more fitting for a man his age. But he had been a good friend. Reliable. He was never her first pick among the men she came across but the few times they’d fucked prior to becoming a couple, she found him perfectly adequate.

Over time, the cracks began to show. Giles was so used to being alone that Gwendoline not only began to feel alone but also rejected. He wasn’t very supportive of her acting career but never hesitated to take advantage of it. She had given an enthusiastic yes when he wanted to design a Captain Phasma-inspired dress. Back then she thought things would be different, that he would be more appreciative of what she’d done. He started going on movie premieres and other events for her work but his complaints about the time they spent there and the people they had to mingle with only became more incessant. He also couldn’t stand Nikolaj.

There was nothing he could do when she started fucking Nikolaj. He fucked other people too, after all. He couldn’t be bothered to visit her on the set in Croatia, even in Belfast. He found Spain too hot.

But because of her TV work and the months she’d been holed up in Belfast, she fell off the radar with her friends from the good old days. She hardly saw Patrick Wolff—another person Giles couldn’t stand. Outside of work, it was only through Giles she had contact with other people. As hellish were the days and nights of filming Game of Thrones, she had Nikolaj. He also encouraged her. Where Giles was too tired to go over lines with her, Nikolaj would take the script to bed and they stayed up late analyzing the scene and fucking.

It was only supposed to be that—fucking. Nikolaj had a wife, children. She thought his girls were smart, happy children, clearly having gotten their light from their dad. Nukaka the wife left her unimpressed. She was still beautiful despite having some work done on her face, but she was cool towards the people Nikolaj worked with. She found Hollywood boring, pretentious—and the latter was true—but Gwendoline thought she should be more supportive. Instead, Nikolaj had to help his wife clear her schedule on the few times she deigned to join him on a Hollywood event.

Now, here they were four months after Gwendoline’s last visit to L.A.—Nikolaj continuing the divorce proceedings despite Nukaka playing hardball and refusing, Gwendoline herself pregnant with his baby. For everyone else it was a nightmare situation. She was strangely at peace.

“Do we need something shipped today?” Nikolaj asked, hand lowering to her cunt and staying here. Gwendoline moaned, moving to offer him her breasts. He licked one of her nipples while his hand firmed on her cunt.

“Everything I’m taking with me has been packed and shipped,” she replied, closing her eyes from the sensual draws of his mouth on her nipples. His kisses were as warm as the California sun waiting for her across the ocean.

“You can get a good price for this apartment, you know,” Nikolaj said, freeing a nipple with a loud pop and gesturing around. “Great space, good location. Plus it’s yours.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I think recent events have taught me it’s very important to keep my old place.”

Nikolaj made a face. “Is Giles going to make the deadline?”

They didn’t have the smoothest break-up. Not at all. Gwendoline could understand Giles not being enthusiastic about the baby. But he had no right to tell her to get rid of it. She had been out the door faster than he could utter haute couture. Bright and early the following day, her solicitor had served Giles with papers demanding he pay her for her share of the apartment they bought together and to cover the remaining balance of the loan she’d extended to him years ago.

“He has to.”

Nikolaj looked like he was going to say something. Instead, he just held her.

“Does she know?” Gwendoline asked, pulling his hand back to her stomach.

“I told her as soon as you called me.” He sighed heavily. “That should be it, you know? She should let me go. I made it perfectly clear during our counseling I didn’t love her anymore. Does she want me to hate her?”

“You’ve been together twenty years. It’s not easy.”

“She fucks someone else. We’ve been fucking other people for a long time. I should have left when I stopped loving her.”

Gwendoline didn’t know whether to be impressed by Nukaka or to wring her neck.

“Maybe she still loves you. You can fuck other people but still love that one person.”

“That’s just pain no one deserves.” Nikolaj kissed her on the forehead. “Come on, I have to feed you. Off the bed, you.”

She grabbed his hand and stood up with him. Despite his annoyance over his wife, he threw her a searing look of appreciation, lingering on her full breasts and the bump of her stomach. He handed her a robe before slipping one on for himself.

“Anything you want for breakfast?”

“No baked beans.” Gwendoline was dejected. It was her favorite, but she couldn’t keep it down. She kissed him on the lips. “I’ll take a quick shower then join you, alright?”

While Nikolaj went to the kitchen, Gwendoline went to the bathroom. She’d washed her hair the night before, so she didn’t wet it. She squeezed honeysuckle bath cream on a sponge then rubbed it all over her body.

She didn’t take long to get dressed, opting for her favorite pinstriped shirt, jeans rolled at the ankle, white sneakers. She pinned her wavy hair back then headed for the kitchen.

Having lived in the three-bedroom apartment with Giles for years, she had expected to be disoriented finding herself back in the modest flat bought before being cast in Game of Thrones. Despite working feverishly in regional theater for years, there was never enough money to buy a place no matter how small. Only rent. But then she was cast in the Terry Gilliam movie, so she was able to put aside money at last for a future down payment. More theater work followed, then a stint in Wizards vs. Aliens cemented her real estate future. She continued to live in King’s Cross, however, but had happily left her cramped rented studio for a roomy, and more permanent one-bedroom in the area.

She stood against the doorway, smiling at Nikolaj as he set the table. His hair was still messy from sleep and fucking, he looked sleepy and in her bright pink robe, was just absolutely delicious. She licked her lips and prepared to surprise him with a hug from behind when something foul and just distasteful reached her nose and seeped into her tongue. Nikolaj turned, ready to greet her and that was when she saw the breakfast spread: boiled eggs and small soldiers, sausages. Her eyes dropped right on the eggs and with a gasp, she turned and ran to the bathroom.

She made it just in time. She retched and gasped, her stomach flipping repeatedly and tossing shit up her throat. She gagged, gripped the toilet, wanting to die.

“Gwen?” Nikolaj called out, rapping on the door. “I’m coming in.”

“N-No—don’t—” but another wave surged out of her mouth. Through the sounds of her agony, she heard the door open and then felt Nikolaj’s hands on her shoulders, her hair.

She clung to the toilet as she threw up the last time. As soon as she was done, he went to flush it. She sat on the floor, face twisted in disgust over the lingering sourness in her mouth. He took some tissues from a box, wet them under the sink then sat down beside her. He wiped her mouth and chin.

“I haven’t thrown up in two weeks,” she complained. “The doctor said my appetite should be back to normal by this time.”

“Every pregnancy is different,” he reassured her. “Can you get up? Let’s go brush your teeth.”

“I like eggs,” she muttered, letting him pull her up. She sighed as he squeezed toothpaste on the toothbrush. “I liked baked beans. I like sushi and oysters but can’t too much of them right now.”

Nikolaj swept her hair away from her face. “It’ll pass. Can you manage while I get rid of the eggs?”

“Oh god. We’re throwing food away while children are starving.”

“Don’t worry. They won’t get wasted.”

She shook her head. “You’re not kissing me with egg mouth.”

“I can brush my teeth.”

“No. It’s disgusting.”

He laughed and kissed her again. “Alright. No egg mouth. No eggs.”

She was still glum though. Without thinking about what she was about to say, she blurted out, “And your wife is a fucking twat holding on to you when you don’t love her anymore.”

Nikolaj, startled by her outburst, went, “Oh-kay. . .”

“You do realize what she’s doing? She’s wearing you down.”

“For the record, she’s my ex-wife.”

“No, you’re still married to her. She’s not letting you go.” Gwendoline started brushing her teeth. “She’s doing exactly what you did to her to get her to marry you, except differently. You wore her down to marry you. She played hard-to-get complaining you’re not serious about her because of the other women. Now she’s refusing to let you go, wearing you down until you decide to just drop the divorce.”

“Gwen, I’m not going to not divorce her. There’s no point being married to her. I don’t love her. I love you. You’re the one.”

“No. No, I know women. Especially her sort. She may be fucking other people but once you’re divorced, she’s going to be undesirable. And worse, she won’t have much of a career. Tell me, has she ever done anything, anything at all with her career, that didn’t involve you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say it. Alright. Did you ever notice how you’re always enthusiastic promoting her concerts, her plays, but you practically had to beg her to join you for the premiere of that awful Egyptian gods movie?”

“Hey,” he protested, frowning, “I was not involved with whitewashing.”

“That’s not my point. My point is she knows that once it’s over, once she has no hold on you, she’s nothing. Men fuck her because she’s your wife. Men always want what they can’t have easily. She knows once you’re out, her career is shit. I love you, Nikolaj, not because I can always count on your support or that you’re willing to dump eggs in the rubbish for me. I love you for who you are. Does she? Has she ever?”

As soon as she was done speaking, Gwendoline’s hands flew to her mouth. She was foamy from the toothpaste. Blushing, she spat in the sink. Nikolaj stared off into space, shell-shocked from her uncharacteristic outburst and her words.

“Oh, God. Nikolaj, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head slowly. “No. Don’t.”

“I don’t know what came over me—”

He took her hand and kissed it. “No. Don’t.” He looked at her. “I have refused to see it all these years. You had to tell me.”

“I don’t hate her. Please, you have to understand—”

His smile was sad, but he pulled her close, hugging her. She threw her arms around him, holding him fiercely. “I don’t like hurting you. I don’t want you hurt, Nikolaj.”

“That’s not what you did.” He kissed her on the side of her neck, her shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

“Hush.”

She felt herself about to cry so she held him tighter, harder. She must have made a sound because Nikolaj’s fingers fluttered to her chin, his eyes looking at her with a mix of sorrow and love. Then he kissed her.

And kept kissing her.

She cried out when he suddenly hefted one of her legs over his arm, the other locked around her waist. He dragged and pulled her out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. There, they resumed kissing—a sloppy, slobbery, clumsy clash of mouth, teeth, tongue. She shoved him on the bed.

Nikolaj opened the robe, showing the pink rise of his cock from the dark blond curls. He was hard. Ready. Gwendoline kicked off her jeans and sneakers then climbed after him.

They fucked fast, furiously, nipping at each other, tangling tongues. She rocked her hips desperately, mewling and cooing for more of that delicious friction of pubic hairs and her cunt clinging round and swallowing his cock. He yanked at her hair, grabbed her by the chin and assaulted her mouth with one hard kiss after the next. She pulled at his hair too, drawing his head at a sharp angle to eat at his mouth. As they kissed, he tossed her on her back, their bodies separated for only a moment. But it was enough for her to yell at him, to tell him to go to hell, and then he was inside her again, cock pounding without mercy in the cushiony swell of her cunt. He ripped her shirt open and roughly pinched her nipple.

The hot pain sent her hurtling through orgasm. She cried out, jerking sharply against him. He shouted too, pulling harder at her nipple. Through her dazed eyes, she saw and felt something squirt from her breast.

“Shit,” Nikolaj gasped, raising his head. He searched her face for any sign of discomfort or pain. “Fucking Christ. Did I hurt you?”

Stunned from the violence of their fucking and her orgasm, she shook her head. “No.”

Nikolaj seemed to relax but a second later, he cried out and pulled out of her. “The baby!”

“What—”

He spread her legs, thumbed her cunt open. Gwendoline held her breath, suddenly feeling cold. “Is there—”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. God, I panicked.” He covered her stomach with kisses. “I didn’t mean to fuck you so hard.”

She blushed but admitted, “I kind of liked it. I miss having you fuck me like that.”

“I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

“We’ve asked the doctor repeatedly, Nikolaj. There’s no way your penis can harm or poke the baby. Dimples don’t happen because of your penis. Come here.”

He was careful to fall into her arms. Resting his head on her shoulder, he cupped one of her breasts. “You leaked milk.” Before she could stop him, he leaned towards her nipple, licking it. “It’s sweet.”

She ought to stop him. There was something perverse about an adult man taking milk for her baby. But the pleasure of his mouth on her nipple silenced every protest she had. She ended up offering him her breasts, moaning her encouragement. He took milk from both breasts before the leak stopped. He smiled at her drunkenly.

“Best breakfast of my life.”

“I need breakfast,” she pretended to complain. “Go get rid of the eggs before I go to the kitchen.”

She laughed as he threw her pink robe back on and sauntered out of the room, whistling. She sat up, inspecting her striped shirt. There were missing buttons. Her breasts were flushed from his kisses, the nipples red and swollen. She touched her stomach and lifted her gaze to her reflection on the mirror at the foot of the bed.

She was flushed yet also pale, messy, her eyes bright. She looked a little tired, but she felt happy. It was the baby, she thought. Because she and Nikolaj were in a fucked-up situation with his wife— _ex-wife_ —it should be difficult to even be giddy. Yet she was. Baby and hormones. It was a high better than any drug, she thought, rubbing her nose and sniffing.

She ended up eating toast and finishing off the sausages. Nikolaj just had coffee. He didn’t bother with a shower and just pulled on jeans and t-shirt from yesterday. She didn’t mind. He still smelled great. Much better than those eggs.

They didn’t have to wait long for their turn with the doctor. Nikolaj helped her up on the bed and held her hand. Gel was rubbed on her tummy then the scan began.

Gwendoline had gone to the session with no expectations other than being told the baby was fine. That was all. She had not been prepared hearing the rumbling sounds from within her, followed by a gentle but strong, sure heartbeat of the baby. She gasped, looking at Nikolaj first then the technician.

“Is that—is that the baby?”

Nikolaj laughed and kissed her hand while the woman nodded. “It is. Best sound there is, isn’t it?”

“It’s so loud.” Gwendoline couldn’t believe it. She looked at her stomach as the technician continued moving the device around.

“Ah. There’s your baby.”

Gwendoline stared at the screen, riveted by the images of waves and curves until the woman pointed where the baby was. “See? That’s your baby. You have a little Brienne, if I may so.”

“Or a Brian,” Nikolaj joked, kissing her hand again. “There it is.”

“A baby,” Gwendoline breathed. “It’s real. That’s inside me. Alive.”

Pregnant at forty-one. And for the first time in her life, so very much in love. Gwendoline teared up from the image on screen, squeezing Nikolaj’s hand in response. It was a hard road ahead of them, but she had love. Two greatest loves.

Back in the car a while later, Gwendoline still held the ultrasound printout, unable to stop looking at it. Nikolaj smiled and didn’t pull out of the parking lot immediately. Instead he watched her blond hair falling over her cheek, her long, elegant fingers clutching the scan.

“I’m going to make everything alright, Gwen.”

She reluctantly looked up from the scan. “I have you and we’re having a baby. What can be more alright than that?”

Hand on her thigh, Nikolaj pulled his phone out of his pocket. He pressed a series of numbers there. Gwendoline watched him, eyebrow raised. “I hope that’s lunch.”

“Even better,” Nikolaj replied, kissing her on the lips. One ring and another person picked up his call. “Emil, yes. It’s me. Let’s begin the process of a legal separation. She can’t contest that, can she?”

Gwendoline, finding herself tearing up once more, took his hand and kissed it.

**Author's Note:**

> So just a few things I found regarding divorce laws in Denmark. I have no legal background and I just coasted through a lot of information. If there are mistakes, be kind enough to leave links pointing me in the direction, okay? 
> 
> 1\. Danish law now requires couple who wish to divorce to undergo three months of counseling. This was legislated last year.   
> 2\. If divorce is not mutual, they have to file for legal separation that lasts between six months to a year. So even if the divorce is still contested after these time periods, the person who wishes the divorce has legal grounds to do so.   
> 3\. Besides desertion and abuse, other grounds for divorce is adultery.   
> 4\. Custody of children is shared, no matter what.   
> 5\. Denmark has one of the highest divorce rates, at more than fifty percent.


End file.
